


Mistakes

by be_a_rebel



Category: History Boys - Bennett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-05
Updated: 2010-06-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 22:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/be_a_rebel/pseuds/be_a_rebel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scripps just squeezes your shoulder when you tell him this, shoulders telling you how awkward he feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own the History Boys.

All Dakin does is talk about Irwin, constant why doesn't he like me and you've been asking the same question for a while now, only about a different person.

Scripps shoots you somewhat sympathetic, somewhat amused looks and you feel relief because he might not understand but he sympathises, which means there's less ridicule. He hugs you without being stingy and puts his arm around you and treats you like a human being, rather then-the-boy-who's-crushing-on Dakin.

You think of Dakin at night sometimes, when there's silence and all the doors are shut. Your hands creep under the covers and your hand fills quickly and you're messy and it's not even remotely sexy, not like Dakin's smile, or the arch of his eyebrow.

Telling Irwin didn't help. Maybe you expected him to admit that he felt it too, but he's too careful, too collected, too good an actor at everything important.

And you're not. Scripps just squeezes your shoulder when you tell him this, shoulders telling you how awkward he feels. You ask him if God is really enough.

"Sometimes. Not all the time."

He's looking at his shoes and his face is close, ever-so-close, closer than Dakin ever allowed, ever permitted you to be. You lean forward and there's the edge of his mouth and there's a thrum in your ears because you recall his nimble fingers on the piano.

He doesn't move for about half a minute and you let your mouth linger on his cheek. He pulls his arm away and looks at you and you can't understand it, can't contemplate what he's thinking, which is weird because he's Scripps and he's always been completely there.

You both sit in silence for the longest time and you wonder if he's going to asking God for deliverance in the morning. Or whether he'll be asking for forgiveness.


End file.
